The Colour of Warmth
You cannot spin the suns rays
For they are golden light
Clothing earth with warmth
Encompassing, coloured green
A rainbow of colour so bright
Growing the flowers, the smell
Seeing the sweet taste
Tasting the colours on your fingers
Bright as a bird in flight
White as a gulls feathered wings
Blue as the flooding tides
Gray as the ebbing, yellow as the sand
You cannot spin the suns rays
For they are golden light
Clothing the earth with warmth
A rainbow colour of sight.
poem by Andrew Shiston
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Black, White Or Coloured
I was born black and you were born white or coloured;
But we all came from the lovely hands of the Creator,
Because the Creator loves colours!
And like the muse of the rainbow seen across the sky.
I am always black! !
In the sun, in sickness and even when i die;
But the Creator made it so,
And i will be buried as a black when i die.
You were born white or coloured,
But you came out of the womb with the colour of the rose!
And you became whit eor coloured in the process of your growth,
But you are always blue when it is cold.
You do turn green when there is fear in your eyes!
But yellow when you are sick;
And like the various colours of the rainbow as seen across the sky,
But you will be grey when you die.
This shows that i am always black from birth to death,
But you do have various colours to satisfy your muse like the rainbow;
So you are more coloured than i am in this life,
And we all know the reality of these facts on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Colours
a rainbow has many colours which mean different things,
to different poeple,
red could mean love or danger,
yellow could mean the summer sun that rises,
pink could mean that they are happy,
green could mean the colour of the leaves on a tree,
orange could mean the atumn days or the sunset,
purple could mean peace and harmony,
blue could mean sadness or the colour of the sea,
so the next time you see a rainbow take a look and,
think what it means to you,
allow yourself time to remember the happy days that you,
have had,
your future could be as bright as the rainbow,
you have seen,
poem by Sharron Stephenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Days Filled With Colour
Days fill with colour
As the dawn breaks on another day
Clear skys, not a cloud in the sky
Vibrant blue skys
Warmth fills the air from a winter sun
A gleaming shape floats by
Colours catch my eye
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Chatting all day about whatever
Maybe it is laughter
Happiness
Freedom in the winter skys
Parrots all the colours of a rainbow
Vibrant blue skys, fill my day
Colours of winter in the country
Hills filled with colour
Green hills soon to be colourful crops
Winter storms colour the hills with ice
Warm air from a winter sun
Colours your day
I see things differently now
No city skys filled with doom and gloom
No buildings cramped into one corner
Open spaces, trees, all filled with colour
Fill my day with happiness
Now I take the time to listen to nature
My heart is crammed with excitement
Everything now a new experience
Colourful parrots
Vibrant blue skys
The warmth of the sun
poem by Batibchar Mocculta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rainbow Hues
Rainbow hues
Rainbow bright
Rainbow shines
And gives out light
That colour my life
With its love
Just like blessings
Sent from above
I love to see
This shining bright
Joys twinkling
And spreading light
I wish my God
I wih from my heart
To show me always
A new start
When life is losing
Its glory and charm
And I feel as if
Troubles and harm
Will take over
Bright sunshine
And will dim
All this light's wine
I wish please God
Always send this bright
Shining rainbow hue
To brighten life's light.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Blind Child's Plea
What is the colour of the wind, Daddy?
Said the child so small
What is the colour of the wind?
For i can't see it at all
It is the colour of freedom, my child
Said the man to his son
It is the colour of all
The specks of light in the rainbow
That is the colour of the wind
What else, Daddy? What else?
Begged the child
Explain to me more
For you can see what i can not
The sun
The sea
The Earth
And more
It is the colour of beauty
Of peace and light
It is the colour of love
And of day and of night
It feels so free
Said the child
With arms outstreached
I never would have guessed
The colour of the wind
It is the colour you want it to be
And it doesn't matter if you can't see
For the wind is your friend
And you alone
Know the colours of the wind.
poem by Lucy Westmacott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Catch a Rainbow
On one side the Sun is shinning bright
And on the other side clouds are pouring rain in daylight
I wonder what it's going to be like
And then to my surprise
I see seven colours that I can recognise! !
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet! !
All the beautiful colours it reflects.
A Rainbow is arch of light,
And it gives us all insight.
A Rainbow is Spectrum of colours,
And it gives us great Honors.
A Rainbow is a positive energy,
And it gives our life a good synergy.
A Rainbow is a symbol of Peace and Harmony,
And it gives life a meaning and symphony.
A Rainbow is a complete Circle,
And it gives us a chance to believe in miracles.
I wish I had Wings to fly high,
Up in the open sky,
To be bold and catch the pot of gold,
To catch the Rainbow and see if the mystery unfolds! !
poem by Leena Ajay Pimple
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm a singing rainbow
When my eyes are blue
I’m a sky-spelled beam of Heaven
Singing icons of beauty
Brown
I’m an autumn singing
Falls of leaves to the ground
Yellow
I’m millions of suns
Singing rays of warmth
Green
I’m a throbbing rainforest
Singing fibers of creation
Violet
I’m a tiny flower singing
Strength of growth
Rad
I’m a blood-spelled shade of Light
Singing peace of darkness
When my eyes are empty
I’m a singing rainbow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rainbow
I'm here to shed light on your day
We're not having any black or grey,
Ride the rainbow high and low
Spread the colour wherever you go.
From the rainbows seven colours true
Painting the sky with dazzling hue,
Red, orange, yellow, green,
Blue, indigo and violet seen.
In every life there's a rainbow
With nothing but the world below,
It has no gate, it has no door
It arches like a bridge from shore to shore.
Each individual colour is so clear
Which never ceases to bring cheer
Way, way up in the sky
And we really do not know why.
©Hazel 2012
poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
JAZZ and RAINBOWS
What is Jazz - What is a Rainbow?
You can ask the questions - don't expect answers
Jazz is free and yet constrained
Rainbows come and go as they please
Jazz is wild and yet restrained
Rainbow can't exist without rain
Jazz is open and yet contained
Rainbows always have red at the top
Jazz is unscored and yet maintained
Rainbows can be single - double - triple
Just as Jango Rheinhardt said to Segovia
Senor it ees all in ze 'ed
The same is true of rainbows
Zey are all inside my 'ed!
It takes all the colours of pure white sound
To create jazz.
It takes all the colours of pure white light
To create a rainbow.
Jazz and rainbows operate on the same principle
In jazz the tone colours are separated by the players
In a rainbow the visible colours are separated by a raindrop
Jazz and rainbows are boh equally beautiful.
After the rain there are stll some drops in the atmosphere
They refract the white light into R O Y G B I V,
In the same way the 'Jazz Combo' is able to dissect.
The white sound of music is disected by the musicains
On a sunny day - the white light hits the raindrop
The colours are dispersed forming the rainbow.
In jazz - each member if the Combo has a colour!
The double bass has red - the saxaphone is orange!
The percussion is yellow - the brass is green
The clarinet is blue - trhe banjo is indigo
The guitar is violet and the piano is striped!
The combo plays and whiite sound is re-produced.
Because we are humans our senses of life are acute.
Our eyes for colour and our ears for sound.
The quality of this provision enables us to distinguish colour
And to distinguish between all the tones and semi-tones.
So next time you see a rainbow - think jazz
And the rainbow will dance for you
Next time you hear some jazzy jazz - think rainbow
And the tone colours of the jazz will spring out at you.
(John Knight - Colchester - October 2009)
poem by John Knight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Light: Three Primary Colors
Red is the colour of blood that flows in the body of all creatures given birth
Green is the colour of grass that like a carpet covers a lot of the soil of earth
Blue is the colour of sky that surrounds this world and is of an infinite girth
All three colours come from a Single Source having an Immeasurable worth.
Red is also the colour of danger and a symbol which indicates all to beware
Green is also the colour of the leaves that most of the plants and trees wear
Blue is also the colour of water that covers most of this world which is fair
Three colours are the original blend of all those others found in nature there.
Red is also the colour of anger, passion or pain that is expressed, felt and seen
Green is also the colour of something natural an indication of where it has been
Blue is also the colour of Infinity and the light glowing in a mind which is clean
And all three colours are shades of One Light the essence of all universal sheen.
Of all the three colours I like blue the most as it seems to be uniquely sublime
It speaks to me of loftier and deeper things that were experienced in my prime
It also represents the colour of the biggest phenomena known to man in time
Being a symbol of That in which all exists and from which all began to chime.
------------------------
Note:
There are many other colors but as far as those which form the basis of technology there are only three i.e; as in a R.G.B. monitor and screen projector etc.
poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sky & The rainbow
The Rainbow & the sky
We all think that the rainbow has a lot
Of colours..but it's a fault idea
because the rainbow has only
One colour is the sky
and the sky has to on colour
is the promise
We All promise to each other
in front of the sky that we will Always
will be together
we run under the sky
we smile under her clouds
we love under his rain
we fly with her &
we choose our way in the rainbow
so come on chosse your colour
Choose your way and feel the colours
poem by Marie Armany
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Day Begins
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight,
Red is gray and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by,
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,
Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Night time, to some a brief interlude,
To others the fear of solitude.
Brave helios wake up your steads,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The First of May ( A Memory)
THE WATERS make a music low:
The river reeds
Are trembling to the tunes of long ago—
Dead days and deeds
Become alive again, as on
I float, and float,
Through shadows of the golden summers gone
And springs remote.
Above my head the trees bloom out
In white and red
Great blossoms, that make glad the air about;
And old suns shed
Their rays athwart them. Ah, the light
Is bright and fair!
No suns that shine upon me now are bright
As those suns were.
And, gazing down into the stream,
I see a face,
As sweet as buds that blossom in a dream,
Ere sorrows chase
Fair dreams from men, and send in lieu
Sad thoughts. A wreath
Of blue-bells binds the head—a bluer blue
The eyes beneath.
This is my little Annie’s face;
My child-sweetheart
Whom long ago I lost in that dark place
Where all lives part.
Beside me still I see her stand,
Who is no more.
She walked with me through childhood, hand in hand,
But at the door
Of youth departed from me. Fain
Was I that day
To go with her. Ah, sweetheart, come again
This First of May!
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chillingham
I
Through the sunny garden
The humming bees are still;
The fir climbs the heather,
The heather climbs the hill.
The low clouds have riven
A little rift through.
The hill climbs to heaven,
Far away and blue.
II
O the high valley, the little low hill,
And the cornfield over the sea,
The wind that rages and then lies still,
And the clouds that rest and flee!
O the gray island in the rainbow haze,
And the long thin spits of land,
The roughening pastures and the stony ways,
And the golden flash of the sand!
O the red heather on the moss-wrought rock,
And the fir-tree stiff and straight,
The shaggy old sheep-dog barking at the flock,
And the rotten old five-barred gate!
O the brown bracken, the blackberry bough,
The scent of the gorse in the air!
I shall love them ever as I love them now,
I shall weary in Heaven to be there!
III
Strike, Life, a happy hour, and let me live
But in that grace!
I shall have gathered all the world can give,
Unending Time and Space!
Bring light and air--the thin and shining air
Of the North land,
The light that falls on tower and garden there,
Close to the gold sea-sand.
Bring flowers, the latest colours of the earth,
Ere nun-like frost
Lay her hard hand upon this rainbow mirth,
With twinkling emerald crossed.
The white star of the traveller's joy, the deep
Empurpled rays that hide the smoky stone,
The dahlia rooted in Egyptian sleep,
The last frail rose alone.
Let music whisper from a casement set
By them of old,
Where the light smell of lavender may yet
Rise from the soft loose mould.
Then shall I know, with eyes and ears awake,
Not in bright gleams,
The joy my Heavenly Father joys to make
For men who grieve, in dreams!
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Colours Of Life
Sunny morning, golden noon, rose pink twilight, silver moon.
Grey black cloud, creamy sea, lightning bright, green brown tree.
Yellow with age, white with fright, red with rage, black as night.
Green with envy, rainbow hue, in the pink, sky of blue.
Countless colours running rife. These are the colours of our life.
poem by Rod Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rainbows
I once travelled to the West of Scotland, to the town of Ayr,
And the most magnificent rainbow, I remember seeing there.
The rain was still pouring down, but the sun was shining bright;
These two factors mixed together, created a most magical sight.
The sight of such beauty, made me catch my breath,
But, I knew that, soon, the rainbow would die a death.
All too soon, after the rainbow had, into the sky, evolved,
Than it disappeared, back into the clouds, and dissolved.
The arc of vibrant colours, which I’d seen there before,
Faded away, leaving the sky, dull and grey, once more.
A multicoloured rainbow, I really do love to see;
It is one of those ‘wow! ’ moments in life, for me.
From the rainbow, I found it hard to steal my eyes away;
It helped to brighten up, what was really a miserable day.
It’s still a mystery where rainbows start and end:
I still don’t know the answer: do you, my friend?
Any rainbow which, by me, is sighted,
Makes my soul awake and feel excited.
Upon my face, there appears a bright smile,
As I watch the arc stretch away, over the miles.
I wish a rainbow was tangible: something I could hold.
Rainbows are always fresh and new: they never get old.
I’m always amazed how each individual colour is so clear.
A rainbow is a rare sight, which never ceases to bring cheer.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spin, Spin, Spin
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
The harlequin dances in a costume of green
Spin around
But under his makeup his age can't be seen
Spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
You look out on the city from your penthouse so high
Spin around
But your pedestal's your prison and so is your high
Spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
Your pills are you conscience
They make ev'rything seem all right
Spin around
Take a white one go to sleep
Take a red one to stay up all night
To spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
Spin, spin, spin
Spin away, spin away
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rainbow like our life
Rainbow like our life
Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow is in the sky.
Children were clapping & jumping with joy.
I also heard the roar and saw
the wonder of seven colour’s rainbow in the sky.
It was glowing & was giving coolness to our eyes.
Suddenly it was disappeared from the sky and
then I realize that the rainbow is like
the life of a human-being.
It’s colours are like the colours of our life.
Colours of life as joy, sadness,
Kindness, honesty, attraction, haterdness & love
are as the seven colours of a rainbow
And I realize that rainbow is just
like the life of a human being.
poem by Vijay Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the Highveld
(after Toon van den Heever)
I
In the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open
where rock rabbits, steenbok and baboons revel,
you see the wind skipping through the long grass
and you can still believe in God and His angels,
the rain gathers with thunder
where through the open spaces you can see far into the veldt,
you are astounded by the beauty of flowering proteas
and you still can realize your dependence
but when the city’s rumbling becomes too much,
the jacarandas start flowering in the streets,
buildings of steel and concrete start to curtail you,
you dream about wild flowers appearing everywhere
and it’s the places of a child that you miss,
in the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance.
II
In the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance
and the wind rollicks through the grass
the sky is pure blue and you can look for hours at it,
there you can find freedom from the city’s imprisonment.
When the wind rustles through the march you loose all sadness,
you see the African red-knobbed coot gathering her chickens,
you can hear the finches’ caper, branches full together,
you see every great small happening,
how wild flowers of every imaginable colour
grow as if planted in secret
(and I will go back if I only could)
where I can find some serenity, can have peace
where I will know about God’s heritage;
there the sun shines.
III
There the sun shines
where proteas and aloes flower wildly,
bright up to the horizon
coming out of the earth by themselves
with violets growing purple-blue right through the marsh,
with daisies stretching white over the veldt,
with long tailed widow birds flapping their wings
and the earth is covered with long green grass.
To this piece of ground I am trapped
even when my days are drawing to their end,
it goes even to my heart’s deepest yearning,
with every plant, bush and flower
as it’s bought with sweat and blood,
nobody can strip it from me.
IV
Nobody can strip it from me,
I have to go back to where the sun hangs golden
in the sapphire heaven, I have got to strip the city from me
(but if I only could)
the big desire stays and out of the town I must go
away from the ambulance and police sirens that cuts through everything,
trains whistling almost endlessly,
I have got to go to where only the frog choir and crickets sing.
Again I have got to get the smell of sugar bushes,
smell the rain, spring, summer and even autumn
I must get away from a world where tinned pleasure seduces,
where people use other people for their own pleasure.
I want to stand in the green fields of grass,
when the day dies.
V
When the day dies
letting its last rays fall,
with the birds flying to their nests
darkness comes to this part of the universe,
the doves at dusk still call to each other
as if their voices bind them in the darkness,
you can see the moon sailing golden-yellow through the sky,
you are sometimes blinded by the bright rays,
the city lights glitter far away
in all the colours of the rainbow,
here you want to bond your life to a loved one,
catching her moments long in your eye
when people come together here,
the madness of the human existence is exorcised.
VI
The madness of the human existence is exorcised
even in later years past your own youth,
when you are in the world that your heart desires,
you want to invite the new spring to stay with you
shaking out that which bothers and torments to the early summer wind,
feeling the effervescence of new life,
blinded by the sun you want to find healing
while the whole of spring washes through your life
with the light, air, the flowers, birds and sun splashing down
as if your autumn is only in your imagination,
you want to wash yourself clean from old age,
you are searching for exorcism from the darkness
there are still flowers sprouting out everywhere,
when the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees.
VII
When the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees
with branches being full of coloured leaves,
the sun is still heating as in summer
before the first biting winds begin to whine.
I see opened pod upon opened pod
that lays brown scorched without any signs of seeds,
the dull blue sky has clouds in milky white,
trees become a wild watermill
that is halfway skeleton, halfway still carrying leaves,
afternoons are still drawn out
and even when days earlier end in winter
it’s a time without equal,
as if the summer can last forever,
in the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!